"Non-violence leads to the highest ethics, which is the goal of all evolution. Until we stop harming all other living beings, we are still savages." ~ Thomas Edison

Chapter 1: Genesis

Homo-sapiens. The dawn of humanity. A pinnacle of imperfection. Their existence has ravaged civilization which has been defined by years of war, famine, disease, intolerance. They will annihilate anything beneath themselves and fear what they are incapable of understanding. In order to save the world, humanity must be replaced by a higher class of being. A mutant revolt must begin.

Xavier's School for Higher Learning stood just outside the grounds of Westchester, New York. Green fields of grass and trees molded the landscape, save for the large circular design of the driveway leading up to its fixture that encompassed a maze of perfectly trimmed bushes. Two light poles stood opposite each other every fifty feet along the cement. A secondary pathway traveled along the right side of the school, through a thick mass of trees, leading to a basketball court behind the backside of the structure, ending at the foot of the court and continuing to an in-grown pool ten feet farther. The school itself, a stories high, large mansion with architecture right out of the mid-1800's, a Victorian stronghold, constructed with dark gray stone, stood at the front of the sweeping lawn.

The institute was one of only a few areas around the world where mutants could live without ridicule. Instead, Xavier's school provided the warmth and humble nature that mutants, adult and children, wouldn't get in a public school or civil environment. They were encouraged to be themselves and were taught to control their powers and in rare cases, the more experienced students joined their teachers on the front lines in defending the Xavier philosophy.

Classes were scheduled to last periodically throughout the day, much like a college or university, and students were already halfway through their normal routine. Hallways were filled with rows of students going to and from class and teachers rushing to prepare for their next lecture like the rush of a morning drive.

One teacher in particular, Dr. Hank McCoy was one of the only instructors who taught multiple classes in the academy, which included mostly mathematics and a majority of the sciences, including biochemistry and genetics lectures on bio-science, chemistry, physics, and even courses on Shakespeare. This semester he chose to teach biology.

Hank was a mutant with a rare, animalistic appearance. A thick coat of Persian blue fur, cut and trim to maintain a well-mannered and welcoming appearance would make anyone but those closest to him uneasy, and invited the code name of Beast, one he scoffed at. But that was when he lived a normal life, when his mutation was easy to hide.

Hank stood at the front of a small classroom, ready to address the group of twenty five young, mutant students who had recently entered, putting their belongings on desks that formed an arch before him. His yellow eyes peered through the small, squared lens of his reading glasses which rested comfortably against the bridge of his nose.

"Good afternoon class. I trust your minds are as ready as your bodies are for today's exciting journey into the works of one of my personal idols, Charles Darwin" Hank said, holding a copy of Darwin's book "The Origin of the Species" at eye level for the class to see. The sight sent one student into a worry.

"Uh, Dr. McCoy," the student began. If he were standing upright, his stature would slightly exceed Hank's, though his build was average. His combed, black hair, swept back from his forehead, with freckles sparsely placed along his cheeks underneath his pair of blue eyes.

"Jimmy, I've told you this before, you are free to call me Hank."

"Right." The young mind paused for a second, a mere blink of an eye's time. "Hank, we don't have to purchase this book do we?"

Beast laughed. It wasn't the first time he heard the question, but it never ceased to catch his humor off guard. "Of course not. I have plenty of copies from my own personal library you are free to use, if you feel so inclined to do so. But, this text isn't required. It's simply going to be used as a resource than as an examination guide. Rest easy son."

The young man sighed in pleasure.

"If there are no more questions, we shall begin." Beast looked around the room and saw no hands raised, a signal to start his lecture. "Darwin says, 'it is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent. It's the one that has the ability to adapt to change." He grabbed a long pointer that lay across his desk and held it up in the thick palm of his apelike hand, against the large screen beside him, highlighting a diagram of the evolution of man. "Evolution is the key to our existence, without it, we'd still be in the age of the Neanderthals drawing pictures on the inside of caves." Hank removed his reading glasses, closed his copy of Darwin's book, and addressed the class that sat before him. "Clearly, there are many who protest Darwin's beliefs and replace them with their own, such as those who follow Christianity." Hank stepped out from behind his narrow desk and rested along its edge to continue addressing the class. "Now, we shouldn't be condemning Darwin because of his divergence from Christian studies, we should be congratulating him on his intellectual contribution to society, and rightfully so."

Another student shot her hand in the air. She was small in size. Her shoulder length, straight brown hair matched her perfectly captivating brown eyes. Kitty Pryde, a mid-teenage girl, and Beast's prime student, was always one with a topic enhancing question.

"Yes Kitty" McCoy answered.

"Couldn't Darwin's theory of evolution be viewed as an instrument in God's creation of man?"

"A captivating idea."

Kitty smiled upon Beast's compliment and simply nodded as her response.

"What you're fellow student has just pointed out has been wildly debated ever since Darwin released his book. Is evolution attributed to God's own device, or is it simply another means to tell the story of how we came to be? Darwin argued that creation could exist without a mind to guide it and if that's possible, then who knows how that may change mankind."

As McCoy gazed around the classroom, he caught sight of one student drifting in his chair, on the edge of falling out from a stale sense of boredom. "Bobby," he called, alerting the young teen of his disrespect. "Is there something you find not all that interesting about my class?"

Bobby Drake was the class clown of the institute. For him, academics were a bother. He'd rather focus his attention of members of the opposite gender than spend time in a classroom. His curly blond hair and natural facial features provided more than enough incentive to continue his habit. He was the type of student who fooled around in class, was a distraction to the teacher, but was a surprisingly strong A student. Without ever having to open a textbook or take notes in class, Bobby, Iceman as he came known as due to his mutation, was book smart without having to do a single assignment. It was a gift his mutation didn't offer.

"Yeah," Bobby said, clearly trying to annoy his teacher, "not to be disrespectful teach, but I've read writing off a cereal box that was more interesting than this."

"Well, if you don't feel as strongly as Darwin or your fellow classmates you're more than welcome to leave, but I'd like to remind you that if you leave, it's on grounds of academic penalty. I'd highly encourage you to stay. Who knows? You may actually find Darwin enjoyable, given time."

Bobby's chin returned to rest comfortably in the palm of his right hand, anchored by an arm that stood vertical from his desk, and gave a moan he hear as a failure to achieve his goal of irritating Dr. McCoy. "Doubt it."

Beast returned to the front of the class and continued his lecture, grabbing a pencil and resting it against the back of his ear. "In the words of Madeleine L'Engle, 'our truest responsibility to the world is to paint or sing or write, for only in such response do we find the truth.'" Beast was quite fond of quoting classic English writers and poets, to the point of annoying some faculty with his constant over-usage, especially Logan, who was more animal than he was. In a strange, and almost obvious way, Beast and Logan had formed a close friendship and mutual respect due to the nature of their mutations. Logan gave in to his feral rage more often than he would care to admit, where Beast had tamed his to the point of being almost nonexistent. Hank was proof to Logan that even his inner beast could be tamed. Logan would refuse, and secretly he enjoyed it. Of all the mutants he taught, student or not, Logan proved the most difficult.

Hank brushed his secondary thoughts off to the side and focused his attention back to the class, who had stared blankly at him as his mind drifted off topic. His distraction had been more apparent than he realized. "Sorry class, my mind went somewhere else. Now where was I?" Hank paused, remembering his previous though. "Oh yes" he exclaimed. "The truth is, that our mutation is a natural part of evolution. In time, genetics change, and as a result, our cells mutate to create a new species. Mutants. We are nothing more than homo-sapiens with a few extra chromosomes."

"If we are so similar, why do humans still fear us?" Kitty asked, her eyes beaming with a hope that would put the Professor's to shame.

"That Kitty, is a question I unfortunately cannot answer. My only logical guess would be because we are different enough to cause a threat to a society they have dominated for years. Unfortunately we live in a world with intolerance and oppression built into its core. If humans have their way, all mutants would be erased from civilization."

"What good does it do to sit back and watch it happen?"

"My dear, that's why people like Charles Xavier exist. To keep peace between our race and theirs. But every culture isn't without their own form of supremacy. Ours regrettably is known to many as a mutant terrorist bent on starting a war with our lesser kin."

"You mean Magneto?"

"I do."

A sudden ache overcame Hank. He clenched his stomach and bent over his desk, struggling to catch his breath, sensing pain, tragedy, heartache, and despair, not from his mind, but from one distant, yet close. His ears rang in a painful echo, enough to shatter invisible barriers on the Astro Plain. And just as quick, the sensation was gone.

"Hank? Are you okay?" Jimmy asked, his curiosity evident in his warm-natured character.

A long pause followed his student's question. "I'm sorry class, we'll continue this tomorrow. You are free to leave." After a seconds hesitation the students packed their belongings and left Beast's classroom in a mannerly order. Something had gone terribly wrong. This only happened in rare instances during the Professor's use of the mutant tracker Cerebro. Seeing that Hank was making adjustments to the device before he left to teach his class, that could't be the explanation. Only one thing was for sure.

There was something very wrong with the Professor.